A series of muffled laughs escaped his throat, filled with helplessness and pain, more grating than crying.
But Zeng Keqin analyzed calmly, "Based on my legal knowledge, your sentence of three years and six months has no direct connection to Jiang Shiyu's testimony or his family background."
Zhang Kang froze, looking up.
"You said you picked up the brick to save him. The first strike counts as self-defense—a legitimate act to stop unlawful action, bearing no criminal liability. But then you struck again—by then, the person had lost the ability to resist. Your act exceeded the necessity of defense, constituting intentional injury. According to Article 234 of the Criminal Law, anyone who intentionally injures another, causing serious injury, is to be sentenced to between three and ten years."
She paused. "The judge's sentence of three years and six months actually took into account your motive of saving a friend and your minor subjective malice as mitigating factors. Otherwise, as an adult, you'd have gotten at least five years."
"As for his grandfather being the court president or his father donating a library—if true, that's unfair. But it has no causal relationship with your sentence. Your sentence was determined by your own actions."
Zhang Kang's voice was hoarse. "You study law, so of course you side with it."
"I study law, so I trust evidence and facts more."
Zeng Keqin looked at him. "I understand your grievance. But you can't blame all your misfortunes on others. The root of this was the fight. If you had chosen not to go, none of this would have happened. Your choices ruined you."
Only Zhang Kang's heavy breathing filled the air.
Zeng Keqin turned and walked to the corner, then stopped abruptly.
A figure leaned against the wall, unknown how long he had been standing there.
His red hair was like a faint flame in the dark, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. He hung his head slightly, his hair covering his eyes.
"Want to talk?"
*
Xiaoming Food Stall
The shirtless barbecue chef fanned the charcoal grill with a palm-leaf fan, thick smoke drifting with the wind.
Zeng Keqin covered her nose and coughed softly.
On the table before them were several skewers of barbecue and a pot of hot congee. Across from her, Jiang Shiyu was eating a skewer with gusto.
This man—she found him hard to read.
He stopped and looked up. "Why aren't you eating? Eat up so you have the energy to talk."
Zeng Keqin ladled some congee, took a few sips. "I'm full."
Jiang Shiyu put down the skewer, a dark gleam in his eyes. "Go ahead and ask."
She bit her lip. "Was everything he said true?"
Jiang Shiyu smirked and shrugged. "Truer than pearls."
For some reason, seeing him so carefree felt like looking at an empty shell.
"Don't you want to explain?"
"Didn't you already explain for me?"
Zeng Keqin met his eyes, not letting herself be sidetracked. "Was what you said in court true?"
Jiang Shiyu picked up another skewer. "Do you think a seventeen-year-old high schooler would lie in court?"
"So you really didn't see it."
"It was chaotic—dozens of people fighting. Not seeing anything is normal."
Zeng Keqin frowned, her tone cooling. "Jiang Shiyu, you asked me to talk. I'm not begging you. Please take this seriously."
In the distance, the charcoal fire crackled.
Jiang Shiyu dropped his flippant smile and raised a hand. "Boss, two bottles of ice-cold beer."
The beer arrived quickly.
He poured a full glass, tipped it back, and downed it in one go. When he set the glass down, he bowed his head in silence for a long time.
"When I turned around, all I saw was Zhang Kang holding a brick covered in blood. The person on the ground tried to get up, so Zhang Kang hit him again. Then the person stopped moving. Then the police came."
"So when the judge asked me, I didn't know if Zhang Kang was telling the truth. But what I saw was him hitting that person once, twice—that's the truth in my eyes."
"But nobody believed me. They thought I was trying to shift all the blame onto Zhang Kang for fear of being implicated. They said I was the reason he went to prison—that I was ungrateful and backstabbing."
He turned his head with a light laugh. The earring on his right ear glinted in the light, then dimmed.
Seeing him like this, Zeng Keqin asked the question she had been holding back. "Doesn't it hurt?"
Jiang Shiyu paused, then followed her gaze to the earring on his cartilage.
"It hurt, a lot when I got it pierced." He smirked. "Pretty cool, right?"
There he went again.
Every time he was about to show his true feelings, he dodged, changing the subject with a joke.
Zeng Keqin resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she didn't look away.
A breeze blew, lifting the hair from his forehead. His sharp, striking features flickered in the light, and his smile faded.
"Back then, I didn't dare go to school or go out. I stayed home all day, because I had seen my parents take Zhang Kang's parents to the police station. Then Zhang Kang was sentenced. I also saw my father go to the principal's office, and shortly after, I was allowed to attend school normally."
"So I told them I wanted to turn myself in, to be in prison with Zhang Kang. But they thought I was crazy. They threatened me—if I didn't study well, they'd send me abroad and never let me come back."